


The Kids Are Alright

by sunkelles



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aromantic Arya Stark, Aromantic Asexual Arya Stark, Asexual Arya Stark, Crack, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Femslash, Humor, Jon is Ned and Cat's son because I'm lazy, Modern Westeros AU, Polyamory, sibling relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:05:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3616008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkelles/pseuds/sunkelles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robb is happily married. Sansa is a huge lesbian in a happy relationship. Bran is a polyamorous bisexual and Rickon wants to have sex with everyone. Arya is single and happy, but they all think she must be dreadfully lonely.<br/>Arya wishes they’d all leave her alone.</p><p>Or that one where Arya is an aromantic asexual and her family keeps trying to set her up on dates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kids Are Alright

**Author's Note:**

> This fic became such a mash up of all my weird head-canons and inside jokes that I don't even know what I was trying to do with it. Also, I decided to write this because I head-canon Arya as aro ace and hadn't seen any fics following that head-canon yet. 
> 
> Also, Rickon is probably aromantic but not asexual.
> 
> Also, some characters are fairly oc, but that's too be expected in something as cracky as this.

The sept where Robb and Jeyne wed is lovely, and Jeyne’s direwolf bride’s cloak is beautiful as well. The Knights of Baelor’s building where they have the reception is significantly less gorgeous. The paint on the walls has started to visibly peal and they had to string fairy lights across the entire ceiling to provide any sort of lighting better than the dying fluorescents. 

Margaery grasps Sansa’s hand reassuringly. 

“I promise we’ll book somewhere that’s been updated since we were born for our reception.” Sansa blushes, the way that she always does when Margaery implies they’ll get married. She grasps Margaery’s hand a little bit tighter to give herself confidence.

She’s coming out to her family tonight. She needs to wait at least a year before she starts thinking about marriage, though she must say that the idea of marrying her wonderful girlfriend sends butterflies through her stomach and a smile across her lips. 

“It’s going to be just fine,” Sansa says softly, more for her own benefit than Marg’s. Her girlfriend is poised and confident, a charmer through and through; she shouldn’t have any trouble charming Sansa’s family. 

Sansa just wishes she could convince herself of that.

 

  
She wants to speak to her mother first, but she keeps getting dragged about by various family members and distant acquaintances. They all seem to think that Sansa and Margaery are just exceedingly good friends, and none of them seem to hear her when she corrects them. 

 

  
Margaery is talking to her little cousin Robert, and presumably listening to all his little complaints attentively. 

“Who’s your friend?” Her Aunt Lysa asks. 

“This is my girlfriend, Margaery Tyrell,” she says. 

Lysa turns up her nose. 

“She ought to cover up more,” Lysa says before she scuffles off. Sansa wants to bang her head against the wall.

 

Margaery goes to speak to Jeyne Poole at the bar as Sansa sees her Uncle Edmure.

“Uncle Ed,” she says.

“Sansa,” he says warmly, and they engage in a bit of semi-awkward small talk. He doesn’t wait too long before he cuts to the chase.

“Is your friend single?” He asks.

“No,” Sansa says, “she’s not.”

“That’s sad,” he says, “I was hoping to ask her out.” Sansa grits her teeth together to keep from saying something scathing. 

“She’s my girlfriend,” Sansa says, as if speaking to a small child. 

“I know that,” Edmure says, “ _Of course_ you’re friends. I was wondering if she and her boyfriend were going through a rough patch right now? Could I swoop in and dry some tears?” 

“I promise you,” Sansa says, losing all patience with her uncle, “she and her _boyfriend_ are doing just fine.” 

“That’s a shame,” he says mournfully as he scans the crowd. He spots another girl. 

“Goodbye, Sansa,” he says, getting up from his spot, “no use wasting the night, right? I can still charm some lovely lady.” He nearly sashays away, and Sansa almost can’t contain her frustrated cry. 

 

  
Harrold Hardyng, her aunt Lysa’s nephew comes up to speak to her later. 

“Cousin Sansa,” he says, obviously trying to be overly cordial, “it’s been too long.” 

“What do you want, Harry?” She mutters. 

“Could you put in a good word for me with your friend?” He asks her with a sickening smile, “because she is really, _really_ hot.” 

“She’s taken,” Sansa says icily. 

“She has a boyfriend?” He asks.

He thinks for a moment before he adds, “I think I can change that. Just introduce me and I’ll do the rest.” Sansa has never been so frustrated in her entire life, but she starts laughing, a nearly hysterical laugh. 

“Of course, cousin,” she says, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him over to where her girlfriend is speaking to Beth Cassel. 

“Marg, this is my cousin,” she says, using the term loosely, “Harrold Hardyng.” 

Margaery sends him an undeserved smile. 

“Harry, this is my girlfriend, Margaery Tyrell,” Sansa says with a tight-lipped smile. Then, Sansa seizes Margaery’s lips in a searing kiss. The majority of the dance floor gasps in unison. 

“You didn’t say that you were lesbians,” Harry says in some odd mixture of excitement and disappointment. 

“What’s going on?” One of her little cousins asks. Shireen Baratheon looks much too amused.

“Female friendship,” one of the adults says, “isn’t it nice how close women can be to one another without dating? That two beautiful women can love each other so deeply without being _in love?”_

“We _are_ dating,” Sansa says breathlessly, “kissing, in love, super gay _dating_.” Robb lets out a low laugh. Everyone looks back in an awed stupor. 

Sansa grabs Margaery’s hand and flees to a different area of the building. Robb, of course, follows them. 

“You could have told me beforehand,” he says, shaking his head. 

“It was more fun this way,” she says, a little blush crawling across her cheeks. Her frustration wasn’t very fun, but the shocked look on everyone’s faces was hysterical. Margaery kisses one of her cheeks, and then looks back to Sansa. 

“I think introductions are in order,” she says, glancing to Robb, “I haven’t met any of your siblings yet.”

“Robb Stark,” he says, sticking his hand out to shake, “Sansa’s older brother.” 

“Margaery Tyrell,” Marg says, taking his hand and shaking it, “Sansa’s girlfriend.” Sansa grabs her girlfriend’s hand.

Robb basically gives Margaery the shovel talk as Marg tries to make casual conversation about the wedding and Robb’s plans for the future. Sansa decides that she should introduce her girlfriend to a family member who is a little less drunk and ready for his bedding. 

 

  
They make their way through the crowd, but Sansa decides that she’s glad she decided to come out. If for no reason other than the look on Harry’s face. And of course, to show off her amazing, gorgeous, and charming girlfriend to her jealous extended family.

* * *

 

  
They do wait nearly a year before they marry, and they pay for a place for a reception that is substantially nicer than Robb and Jeyne’s was. At least the upper floor of the _Poor Fellows_ has functional lights.

Sansa and Margaery are still wrapped in each other’s cloaks as they sit at the high table, drinking and speaking to their wedding parties. Margaery suggested that since they both have old, Westerosi names with sigils, they ought to just have two cloaks and wrap each other in them.   
Sansa, at least, thought the idea was quite clever. 

  
Arya is speaking to Shireen, her constant plus one, and Sansa doesn’t understand how it took her so long to realize. Her sister is in the closet as well. That’s why she’s never brought home a boyfriend. 

  
And Jon was talking about asking Shireen out.   
By the Seven, that isn’t going to end well. 

  
Sansa walks over to the spot where Arya and Shireen are talking about the latest action movie they saw. Arya is fairly surprised that her sister was able to stop looking lovingly into her bride’s eyes long enough to move. 

“Sansa?” Arya asks. Sansa, still clad in her light grey dress and her green Tyrell bride’s cloak, grabs Arya by the hand. 

“We need to talk,” she says. 

“Alright,” Arya says, “talk.” 

“Alone,” Sansa whispers. 

“Sansa,” Arya mutters, “Shireen can hear whatever it is you’re gonna say. She’ll end up hearing it anyway.” Arya tells Shireen everything, and has since the second grade. She’s frankly insulted that her sister thinks so little of their relationship. 

“It’s alright,” Shireen says, sending them both an apologetic smile, “I’ll give you two some privacy.” Shireen sends Arya another smile as she goes off to talk to her cousin Edric. 

“You’d better have a good reason for doing that to Shireen,” Arya half mumbles, half slurs. 

“Jon wanted to ask Shireen out,” Sansa says. 

“That sounds fantastic” Arya slurs enthusiastically. Shireen had a crush on Jon back in middle school and high school. Arya even thinks her big brother and her best friend would make a pretty good couple, especially if Jon’s the interested party this time. 

“Arya,” she says, “you don’t have to pretend to be happy about it.” 

“What are you talking about?” Arya asks, her eyebrows knitting in confusion.

Sansa drops her voice, “aren’t you and Shireen dating?” 

“No!” Arya says. 

“Well, I just thought since you always bring her as your date-” 

“Because she’s my best friend-” 

“You live together,” Sansa says. 

“Because she’s my best friend!” Arya says. 

“So you aren’t dating?” Sansa asks. 

“No, Sansa,” Arya says, “Shireen’s thought Jon was cute since the seventh grade. Now you get your butt over there and tell him to ask my best friend out.”

“Oh,” Sansa says, with a sort of deep sadness in her tone, “Shireen’s straight?”

“Yes,” Arya says, as if she is talking to a very small child, “Shireen likes men.” 

“Oh Arya,” Sansa says sympathetically, “I didn’t know she didn’t love you back.” 

“I’m not in love with Shireen,” Arya nearly shouts. Sansa grasps her hand. 

“You know you can talk to me about it, right?” Sansa says, looking into Arya’s eyes. Arya appreciates the sentiment, and she thinks if she liked anyone that way, it would be Shireen, but she doesn’t. Shireen is her best friend and she loves her dearly, but she doesn’t want to fuck her. She doesn’t want to fuck anyone.   
Arya, in her tipsy stupor, can’t put these thoughts into words. 

“I’m not a repressed lesbian, Sansa,” she says, “that was you.” She staggers as she gets up, but that’s to be expected. Arya doesn’t drink much, and she’s already drank her fair share of liquor at Sansa and Margaery’s open bar. 

  
Arya clumsily makes her way over to Jon. He’s looking longingly over at Shireen, who is speaking to Edric. 

“He’s her cousin,” Arya says.

“Wait- what?” Jon asks, only just realizing that she was there, “Arya-” 

“Just ask her to dance,” she says loudly, as she shoves her oldest towards her best friend. 

  
Jon does end up asking her to dance. Arya feels satisfied. 

* * *

 

  
A few weeks after Sansa and Margaery’s wedding, Arya walks down the carpeted stairs of her and Shireen’s apartment and pours herself a cup of coffee. Then, she spots a magazine on the table. 

“What’s this?” Arya asks, flipping quickly through the pages.

“I think it’s for you,” Shireen says, stifling her giggles. She looks at the cover. 

It only takes her a few pages to realize that Sansa’s bought her subscription to an LGBT magazine. She looks at the cover and sees the word “OUT” written in large white letters.

“Sansa,” Arya growls. Shireen laughs. 

“I thought that she gave up on this,” Arya says. 

“Apparently not,” Shireen says with a little smile. She sits down next to Arya and takes a sip of her coffee.

“Why don’t they get it?” Arya asks her friend. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Shireen says, sending her a soft smile. Shireen understands that Arya just doesn’t want to date anyone. She just gets Arya, and has since they were in second grade. That’s probably one of the reasons they’re best friends. 

“So,” Arya says, “how’d things go with Jon last night?” 

“Well, I think,” she says with a little blush on her cheeks. Arya gestures for her to keep talking.

“We talked about just about everything without it feeling awkward,” She says, “I like him a lot.”

“I feel a beautiful romance coming on,” Arya says sweepingly.

Shireen laughs, “Whatever you say, Arya.” But Arya just smiles at her.

“You know,” she says, “I’m not even sure who I’m supposed to give the shovel talk to, my brother or my best friend?” Shireen sends her a humored look. Arya wonders if Shireen knows about the shovel talk that she gave Trystane Martell when they first started dating.

She laughs as she remembers it, and then realizes that she probably doesn’t. Trystane had been afraid of his own shadow after that.

* * *

 

Robb isn’t easy to surprise. He’s never seen a movie that he didn’t guess the ending of, and he can’t say that he was surprised when he saw Sansa kissing her girlfriend at his wedding. Sansa never seemed particularly interested in men, and always seemed overly interested in women. It wasn’t a difficult conclusion to reach. However, Robb _is_ surprised when he sees Bran kissing Jojen, his own girlfriend’s brother.

The two are walking through the park, and Robb almost goes over to speak to them, before he sees them kiss. It isn’t a joking peck, either. It’s full-blown, long, and probably with tongue. Robb stares for what’s probably only a few moments, but seems like minutes, before turning around and walking the other way.

He tries not to think about it.

 

His plan not to think about it only works for a few days before he decides that he needs to talk to his brother. He makes sure to call Bran before Jeyne comes home that night from her late shift at the hospital. He does not want to try to explain this to her at the same time that he talks to Bran. _He_ doesn’t even know what’s going on. He couldn’t even begin to explain it to Jeyne.

The phone rings nearly six times before Bran picks up, and Robb’s beginning to worry that he turned his phone off. His younger brother doesn’t have a land line, and has a habit of turning his cell off.

“Robb?” his brother asks.

“Yeah, Bran,” Robb says, trying to sound casual.

“It’s nearly midnight,” Bran says, “is there something wrong?” Robb isn’t tactful, and he doesn’t feel like fumbling through some attempts at small talk. He gets right to the point.

“Bran,” Robb says softly, “I saw you kissing Jojen.” Robb can hear his brother’s breath hitch even over the phone.

“You know we’d all understand, right?” He says, “you don’t have to pretend to be dating Meera.” 

“I am dating Meera,” Bran says. 

“So you just kissed her brother for shits and giggles?” Robb asks.

“I’m dating both Meera and Jojen,” Bran clarifies. 

“You’re cheating on them… With each other?” Robb asks him, and he knows that a terrified look passes over his face. He’s glad that they’re talking on the phone. He isn’t sure that he’d want Bran to see that.

“No,” Bran says, “I’m no monster. They know.”

“And they’re alright with it?” His brother asks. 

“Yes,” Bran says, defensively, “I wouldn’t do it if they weren’t.” 

“First Sansa’s lesbian, now you’re bi?” Robb says with a smirk, “you’re going to give mother a heart attack.”

“Oh, she’ll be alright with that part. I think that it’s the polyamory she’ll have a problem with,” Bran says. Robb can almost imagine his completely straight face. He bursts into a fit of laughter.

 “Alright,” Robb says, after he finally catches his breath, “I just wanted you to know that we’d be alright if you _were_ gay.”

“I know,” Bran says, “nobody had a problem with Sansa.”

“And everyone would be fine with this too,” Robb mentions.

“As long as everyone’s happy,” Robb says, “I don’t even think that mom would have a problem with the polygamy-“

“ _Polyamory-“_

“Polyamory thing,” Robb says, futilely rolling his eyes.

“Alright,” Bran says, “I’ll consider it.” Robb knows what his brother sounds like when he’s done discussing something, and he doesn’t feel like pressing the issue.

“Night, Bran,” he says.

“Night Robb,” his brother replies as he hangs up. Robb hears the door swing open as Jeyne staggers in, looking like death herself from a long day at the hospital.

“What’s going on?” she asks, looking at his confused face.

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” he says, setting the phone down, “right now, you need to sleep.” She looks disappointed, but too sleepy to press the issue.

“Alright,” she mumbles, as she gives him a soft kiss to the lips.

“I’m going to bed,” she says as she promptly walks into their bedroom and collapses into bed. Robb isn’t far behind.

* * *

 

 

Bran comes out about a week after that. Jeyne has to work, Jon isn’t sure whether or not it’s the proper time to start asking Shireen to family events, and Margaery has dinner with her grandmother. The dinner ends up just being Bran, his siblings, his mother, and Meera and Jojen. They meet at a restaurant, which Bran thinks is probably for the best. Their table will be semi-private, but public enough that if Robb’s wrong, and someone does have a problem with it, then that someone can’t make too big of a commotion.

Robb sends him a knowing smile.

 Bran clears his throat, and says, “So you all know that Meera’s my girlfriend-“

“They ought to,” Meera interrupts with a smile.

“They do,” Bran assures her, “But what you might not know is that-“

“I’m his boyfriend,” Jojen says.

“Wait?” Sansa asks, “Both of you? Bran, are you dating both of them?”

“Yes,” they all say, simultaneously. Catelyn sends them a confused look.

“Is this some sort of joke dear?” she asks.

“No, mother,” he says, “Meera is my girlfriend and Jojen is my boyfriend.” There’s a long, awkward pause.

“You’re both alright with this?” Jon asks.

“Wouldn’t do it if we weren’t,” Meera replies with a little smirk.

“Alright,” Arya says, looking between the three of them with a big grin, “I think this is kind of awesome. How did it start?” Catelyn sends her daughter a disapproving look, but Meera starts to tell the story.

:”So Bran and I started dating about two years ago,” she tells them, “and everything was going great. I really, really liked him, and I like to think that he really, really liked me-“

“Of course, Meera,” Bran says with a little grin.

“But well, he and Jojen were sending each other eyes two, you know?” Meera says, “and I didn’t really have any problem with that, if that happened too. And I let them both know, so it just sort of happened, I suppose.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Bran says.

Meera rolls her eyes at him, but Jojen almost grins.

“Well spoken,” he says.

“Come off it,” Meera says. Sansa cracks a smile as she looks at them, and Jon just sort of shrugs.

Catelyn seems resigned, but she doesn’t make any comments. She seems relived that Bran is happy, at least, and that’s all he could have hoped for.

He clears his throat again. Bran has a habit of doing that, when he feels uncomfortable.

“Now that we have that out of the way,” he says, “who wants pizza?” The Stark clan begins a series of happy shouts, and Bran knows that it will all be alright.

* * *

 

  
A few days after the pizza party of polyamory, Arya drags the mail in after she gets home from work. Then she drops it on the kitchen table. Shireen’s curled up with a book on the window seal. 

“You got a package,” she calls. Arya sees the brown cardboard box on the cabinet. 

“Are you sure it’s for me?” Arya asks. It didn’t ship Fed-ex or UPS. It shipped with some shady off brand shipping company, and it seems like the package is from some somewhere equally as shady. 

“It said it was from Rickon,” Shireen says, as she brings her book back up to her face.

“Alright,” Arya says. She takes her pocket knife out and cuts the tape off the edges. Then, she opens up the package. 

Arya doesn’t even know that she screams until she hears Shireen. 

“Arya?” She asks, “what’s wrong?” She doesn’t say anything in response. She just grabs the enormous, purple dildo and holds it for her friend to see.  

Shireen sends her a horrified look. 

“Rickon sent you _that_?” She asks. 

“I guess,” Arya mutters, and she walks straight over to the trash. She pops the lid, and dumps the enormous plastic cock unceremoniously into it. Then she lets the lid close. She and Shireen look to the trash can in horror. 

“Do you think that we should burn it?” Shireen asks.

She pauses a moment before she adds, “I’m afraid it’s going to attack us in our sleep.” Arya bursts out into laughter. 

“I can hear the news anchors already,” Arya says, “women murdered in sleep by haunted dildo.” Shireen laughs heartily at that. 

Arya looks over a post card that Bran, Meera, and Jojen sent from the Summer Islands.

“Do you think that he’ll send any more?” Shireen asks, as she sits back down near the window seal.

“I wouldn’t think so,” Arya says, setting the post card down.

“Rickon doesn’t pull the same prank twice,” she assures. Then she looks back to her pile of mail and hears Shireen heave a sigh of relief.

 

 

Apparently, the dildo wasn’t a prank. They just keep coming and coming: dildos, boxes of condoms, lube, and vibrators. Shireen sneaks away with some of the condoms and the lube when she thinks that Arya can’t see (she can) but eventually, they just get lazy. They stop bothering to throw them away.

Dildos and vibrators lie scattered across the counter. Brown boxes lie unopened on the floor. The sex toys just keep coming. Arya doesn’t even know how Rickon is paying for them all, but she doesn’t care all that much. All she knows is that they’re starting to cause problems for everyone. 

* * *

 

  
Jon rings the doorbell, getting ready to pick Shireen up for a date. Then he waits for them to answer. 

  
He waits five minutes, rings it again, and then waits another five minutes. Then he just opens the door and walks in. 

“Shireen?” he calls, stepping into the room, “I’m coming in.” 

“Alright,” she calls, “I’ll be down in a moment.” Then he sees the assortment of sex toys scattered across the counter.

Shireen walks down the stairs and catches her boyfriend staring at the counter in horror. 

“I- we could- if I’m not being satisfying enough-” he garbles. 

“Jon!” Shireen exclaims, holding her reddened face in her hands. Jon blushes red as a tomato. 

“They aren’t mine,” she says softly.

“They’re Arya’s?” He asks in horror, staring back to the pile. 

“Rickon keeps sending them,” she says, making a large and embarrassed gesture towards the pile.

“He seems to think Arya wants them,” she adds. Jon sends her a confused look.

“We’ve tried to get rid of them," she explains, “but they just keep coming.” Jon nods blankly, and Shireen realizes that it’s going to take half of dinner for his awkward embarrassment to wear off. 

She really hates Rickon Stark. 

 

The awkwardness doesn’t take long to wear off, at least, not as long as Shireen expected it to. Their drinks haven’t even arrived by the time that Jon shifts back into his normal self. Shireen has never been so grateful before in her life.

* * *

 

 

A few months later, their apartment is a mess of boxes. These boxes aren’t full of sex toys, though. Arya has devised a system where she just takes whatever Rickon might have sent her straight to the dumpster. These boxes are full of all of Shireen’s things.

“It’s going to be lonely,” Arya says, “without you here.”

“Oh come on,” Shireen says, “we both know that I’ll be over here nearly as much as normal once I move out.” Arya has already personally called all Wednesday lunches as she and Shireen’s friendship bonding time.

Arya smiles at her.

“You know, I didn’t ever really think that it was going to happen,” she says, “you getting married and all, especially not to Jon. Remember when you used to tell me about his butt in middle school?” Shireen blushes red as a cherry.

“Do not tell him about that,” she says in an attempt to sound intimidating. Shireen can’t sound intimidating, though, and Arya doesn’t see the harm in teasing her a little bit more.

“Oh yeah,” she says, “I think that I’ll tell him all about it at the rehearsal dinner. Sansa will be dragging you all over the place, trying to make sure that everything is just perfect, and I’ll be telling Jon all of your most embarrassing moments.” Arya smiles at the end, to let Shireen know for certain that she’s joking. Her friend looks deep in thought.  
“I wonder how he’d react,” she says, “if I _did_ tell him how cute his butt was?” Arya laughs, trying to imagine it. Then her phone rings, like it often does at the least convenient moments.

She looks at the screen and sees that it’s a call from Robb. Arya groans as she silences it.

“Another relative trying to set you up?” Shireen asks.

“Yes,” Arya groans, “Robb keeps trying to get me to take one of his college buddies to your wedding.” And of course, there are still the unwanted issues of _Out Magazines_ coating their living room floor, the sex toys Arya has to periodically dispose of, and Bran’s habit of trying to set her up with every person that he’s ever met. That, and her mother’s attempts to get her to bring Roslin Frey’s cousin to the wedding have her nearly irked her to no end, and it’s only a fortnight until the wedding. She will then have to spend a large amount of time around them, having to put up with all of their match-making efforts.

Arya’s immensely happy for Jon and Shireen, but she wishes that the rest of her family wouldn’t use it as another excuse to try to set her up on dates.  

* * *

 

 

  
Jon and Shireen wed under a Heart Tree. Shireen has never been particularly religious. She was turned off the whole idea of religion by her parents’ fiery Red God, so she was happy to wed in the trees among Jon’s Old Gods. They do, however, decide to ditch the cloaks and use Essosi wedding rings. Shireen thinks that the cloaks are a bit of pointless pomp, while Jon thinks that the rings make the whole affair feel more like a partnership. 

  
Arya stands witness as Shireen’s maid of honor, and she smiles as they kiss. Two of the most important people in her life are happy with each other. Arya thinks that’s pretty great. 

  
Halfway through the reception, after her mother, Robb, and Bran have all introduced her to people they think she should date, she thinks the evening is significantly less great.   
Arya tries to find a nice corner where she can avoid her family. 

  
Jon might or might not be hiding in a corner, trying to avoid his good parent’s chilling glares. Stannis and Selyse are Shireen’s parents, and he will eventually have to deal with them. But he’d like to put that off a little longer. Davos is much easier to talk to than either of them.  
Arya comes up behind him. 

“I can’t believe that you’re hiding at your own wedding,” she says with a hint of laughter.

“You’re hiding too,” Jon says. 

“But I have a good reason,” Arya says. 

“If Stannis glared at you the entire ceremony,” Jon says, “Then you’d think that was a good enough reason. 

“Touché,” Arya laughs. They spend a few moments in companionable silence, listening to a pop ballad, before Arya breaks it. 

“Have I ever told you that you are by far my favorite sibling?” Arya asks. She has told him that, but not since they were little kids. Not since back when Sansa would refuse to play with her because she wanted to play princesses with Jeyne. Not since when Robb wouldn’t let her go on adventures with him Theon. It’s been nearly twenty years since she last said that to him. 

“Why?” He asks. 

“You’re the only one who’s not trying to set me up with someone!” she slurs drunkenly. 

“Robb’s trying to set me up with one of his college buddies, Mother’s trying to set me up with one of Roslin’s cousins,” she sighs. 

“Sansa’s trying to get me involved in her LGBTQ union because she’s certain I just haven’t come out yet. Bran’s trying to set me up with that Gendry guy, and Rickon’s told me all about the virtues of a one night stand. I did not need to know that much about my baby brother’s sex life.” Jon didn’t need that much info about Rickon’s sex life either. He sort of likes to pretend that his siblings don’t have sex lives. It makes his own life a lot easier.

“Why are they doing that?” Jon asks. He’s always thought that other people’s love lives weren’t his business. He even stayed out of all the drama that Sam and Gilly went through a few years ago. 

“They all seem to think that it’s their job to make sure I end up with someone,” Arya mutters.

“You did set Shireen and I up,” he points out, and it’s fairly true. He’s not sure he’d have built up the courage to do it if Arya hadn’t given him the push. Arya meddled a bit in his love life. He appreciated it, but she wasn’t completely innocent of meddling.

“Because you were both lonely and I thought you’d be good for my best mate. If I didn’t think it would make the both of you happy, I’d have stayed out of it. Everyone else, though, they just don’t get that I don’t want to be with anyone. I don’t like men. I don’t like women. I just want to be left alone.” 

Jon doesn’t know how to respond, and he doubts that Arya wants him to. He could say that he understands, that he’s fine with it, but he’s afraid that it will come out wrong.   
She pauses a moment, unsure of how to continue, before she brushes the subject under the rug. 

“That’s probably enough talking about feelings for one night,” Arya says with a slight flourish, and she gives him a slight push forward. It isn’t entirely effective: Jon is more than six inches taller than his younger sister. He turns back to face her in slight confusion. 

“Now go find your wife,” She tells him, “she can only talk to the Seaworths for so long. Eventually, there’s got to be a bedding.” Arya waggles her eyebrows as she says the last part. Jon can feel himself blush. He can’t exactly say that this will be their first time. 

“Alright, alright,” he says as he walks, and he just hopes that Selyse doesn’t poison his cup before they get to that part. 

* * *

 

 

A few days into their Honey Moon in Sunspear, Arya calls Shireen at 3 o’clock in the morning Dornish time to complain about all her damn relatives that are still trying to set her up. Then Jon decides that they need to do something.

 

It can wait until after the Honey Moon, of course. Shireen lies back down on the soft, white hotel sheets beside him.

“We have to do something about that,” she says, staring longingly at the ceiling.

”I think that they’re going to drive her crazy,” she adds, and she sounds serious.

“I promise that we’ll stop it,” Jon says, “but it can wait until we get home.” Shireen nods.

“Ugh,” she says, “we never even fell asleep.” She looks longingly at the clock. Shireen, as he’s learned, is more attached to her sleep than she is to most people. He’ll be treading in dangerous waters if he goes any further with his thought. She turns to shut the light off, and Jon takes his gamble.

“We _are_ already up,” Jon says suggestively. Then he waggles his eyebrows. Shireen laughs, and considers hitting him with the pillow. She ends up kissing him instead.

* * *

 

 

Jon and Shireen come up with a plan to solve Arya’s problem within the week that they get back home. They all gather at Catelyn’s house and have a family meeting. Shireen understands that it isn’t a particularly creative plan, but it’s the only one that she has. And she really, really needs to help her friend, both for Arya’s sake and for the sake of her sleep schedule.

 

Catelyn’s house is small compared to the one that Shireen visited when she and Arya were kids. She sold the large house after Ned died, because it was full of too many memories. Now she’s only got a small, cozy home. The kitchen table has four wooden chairs that normally wrap around it, and they pull three fading, purple folding chairs around the tiny table.

 

They must be a funny sight, seven adults around a small kitchen table, nearly half of them sitting in faded purple folding chairs.

“What’s this meeting about?” Sansa asks, finally voicing what they have likely all been thinking.

“Yeah,” Rickon asks, “I’m missing a wicked party up at the Last Hearth right now.” Catelyn sends him a motherly glare that he somehow doesn’t wither under. Shireen sighs deeply and looks to her husband.

“Can you believe them?” Her look asks. Bran glances between them.

“You all need to stop,” Jon says.

“Stop what?” Rickon asks with a devious little grin on his impish face.

“You-” Shireen says, pointing at the younger man, “need to stop sending Arya sex toys. You’re making her uncomfortable.” Shireen doesn’t bother mentioning the fact that their house was nearly full of them at one point. She wants to embarrass Rickon, not herself. Catelyn turns towards her son with a look of shock and anger on her face. Rickon blushes as bright as his hair.

“Okay,” Robb says, “Rickon needs to stop doing that, but why’re the rest of us here? _I_ don’t send Arya sex toys.” Sansa and Bran murmur their agreement as their mother sends an angry look to all of them.

“Robb!” Catelyn shouts.

“You need to stop setting her up with people,” Jon says, and Shireen can tell that his patience is wearing thin. His tone is starting to turn icy.

“What?” Robb asks, a look of confusion passing over his face.

“Arya doesn’t want to date anyone,” Shireen explains, trying to keep her frustration from leaking into her tone.

“Of course she does,” Catelyn says, “she just hasn’t met the right person yet.”

“And we’re helping her to do that,” Bran adds.

“You’re really not,” Shireen says.

“Why?” Sansa asks.

“Arya doesn’t want to date anyone,” Jon says.

“No men, no women,” Shireen adds.

“What about nonbinary individuals?” Bran asks.

Shireen says, “no nonbinary individuals either.”

“Okay,” Rickon says, “so she doesn’t want to date anyone. What about sex? I don’t want to date anyone and I have a lot of great sex.”

“Rickon Stark!” Their mother shouts disapprovingly.

“She doesn’t want that either,” Jon says exasperatedly.

“She doesn’t want to date anyone?” Sansa asks.

“ _Or_ have sex with anyone?” Rickon asks with a flabbergasted look on his face.

“I don’t understand,” Catelyn says.

“I think that I do,” Bran says as he slides out his phone.

“What do they mean, Bran?” Robb asks.

“Arya’s asexual,” he says.

“Like a plant?” Robb asks, and Shireen wants to bang her head against the wall.

“Like she doesn’t want to have sex,” Bran explains.

“What about dating people?” Sansa asks, “does she want to do that? I have a friend that isn’t into sex but’s still in a happy relationship.”

“Arya doesn’t want to date either,” Shireen asserts.

“Is there a word for that, too?” Robb asks. It sounds like a sarcastic question, but Bran answers it quickly enough.

“Actually,” Bran says, “yes, there is. It’s aromantic.”

“So Arya is asexual and aromantic?” Sansa asks.

“That’s a lot of a’s,” Robb mumbles.

“There’s no way that Arya doesn’t want to be with someone,” Catelyn asserts, “Arya loves people. She’s the most social of the lot of you.”

“She just wants friends,” Jon says, “lots and lots of friends.”

“She told me a few years ago she was building a friend army,” Shireen adds, “to help her take over the world.”

“Now that, I could see,” Catelyn muses with laughter. There’s an awkward bit of a pause while everyone decides how to continue.

“So the moral of the story,” Jon tells them, “is to stop trying to set Arya up on dates.”

“I didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable,” Sansa says softly, “I just want her to be happy,” Shireen knows that her good sister is telling the truth. All of them only have Arya’s best interests at heart. They just have a shitty way of going about it.

“Alright,” Robb promises, “I’ll let it alone. I won’t send anyone else her way.”

“Same,” Sansa and Bran both promise.

“Maybe it’s just a phase,” Catelyn suggets, hopefully, “she might grow out of it.”

“Mrs. Stark,” Shireen says, because she’s never been able to stop calling her that, even after she married her son, “I’ve known Arya since she was six. She’s always felt this way.”

“Alright,” the woman assents, “I’ll leave her alone too.”

“Rickon,” Jon says, sending the younger man his best older brother glare, “isn’t there something you’d like to say?”

“But it’s so funny,” he mumbles.

“Stop sending her sex toys,” Shireen tells him.

“Rickon,“‘Robb says, sending him a dark glare, “I wouldn’t appreciate getting sex toys, and I like sex.”

“You need to stop,” Sansa adds.

“Fine,” Rickon mutters, “I promise that I’ll stop.”

“Thank the Seven,” Shireen mutters. She doesn’t think that Arya’s small apartment could handle anymore unopened brown packages.

* * *

 

 

A few weeks later, at their weekly best friend lunch date, Arya looks takes a sip of her Coke. Shireen brings her own glass of Doctor Pepper to her lips, and takes a swig.

“So it’s been almost a month since anyone called me trying to set me up on a date,” Arya says.

“Really?” Shireen asks, trying to ask surprised.

“It’s been a month since I’ve gotten a sex toy in the mail, and it seems that Sansa’s canceled my subscription to _Out,”_ Arya says with a grin. Shireen tries to appear ignorant and innocent. Apparently, it doesn’t work.

“I wouldn’t suppose that you had anything to do with it,” Arya hints.

Shireen laughs, “Well of course not! I had no idea.”

“I don’t know what you did,” she says, “or if it was just you or you and Jon or whatever- but thank you.” Shireen almost does a double-take. Arya actually said thank you? Shireen loves her, but Arya doesn’t express her emotions well. This is an unprecedented event.

“Anything for my best friend,” Shireen says with a grin, and they share a smile. Shireen suddenly remembers someone at Robb’s wedding, a woman who kept on going on and on about female friendship before she found out that Sansa and Margaery were actually dating. That she thought it was beautiful how much two women could love each other without being in love. That might not have applied to Sansa and Marg, but Shireen likes to think that it does to her and Arya.

She grabs her pop and takes a sip, sharing a conspiratorial glance with her best friend.

It all ended well.

**Author's Note:**

> Arya and Shireen's relationship really became the centerpiece of this fic. 
> 
> I love aro ace Arya, but I also love Arya/Shireen, so it tends to split my loyalties. I love them whether they're romantic or platonic, so I've been trying to write it both ways.


End file.
